Already Together
by Love the Omni
Summary: The night of the loft party, Ian and Mickey lay across the pull-out couch, talking alone for hours. Mickey had already kissed Ian in public that day, and as they talked, he wondered if being "together" with Ian would really be so bad. Written for the Gallavich Week 2 Day 1 prompt: Together (fluff)


**Already Together**

Summary: The night of the loft party, Ian and Mickey lay across the pull-out couch, talking alone for hours. Mickey had already kissed Ian in public that day, and as they talked, he wondered if being "together" with Ian would really be so bad.

Disclaimer: I don't own Shameless.

This was written for the Gallavich Week 2 Day 1 prompt: together (fluffy fics, including – but not limited to – the boys realizing they are together, other people noticing, them telling other people, saying 'I love you' and so on). It's meant to help fill in the blanks and show how Mickey got to the point that he could tell the guy at the party that they're "together" the next morning.

* * *

Once it had gotten late, the loft party finally died down. Several people had already gone home, and everyone else had broken off into smaller groups and settled in for the night. Most of the remaining party-goers had passed out on the couches or the floor. Others, like Ian and Mickey, talked quietly amongst themselves.

After the host of the party unfolded the pull-out couches, the two separated from the others and spread out across one. They claimed the whole couch just for themselves and talked alone for hours, which suited Mickey just fine. He was much more comfortable when it was just him and Ian.

The whole night, Mickey had fidgeted uneasily and kept by Ian's side like a little watchdog, never saying much. He couldn't relate to any of the pampered, out-and-proud party guests at all. The only reason he was there was to be with Ian. They'd spent so much time apart in the past year that it didn't matter to Mickey anymore if being with Ian was dangerous or uncomfortable. He would gladly endure a bunch of pretentious queens just to spend time with him again.

Ian noticed Mickey's awkwardness, but no one else did. To the other party guests, Mickey was cool, rugged, and mysterious. Someone so aloof and new to the scene was bound to make a buzz. Everyone wanted a piece of him, but they couldn't have him.

Ian felt himself getting jealous, but it quickly became obvious to everyone at the party that Mickey had eyes for no one but him. The redhead wished that he could confirm to everyone just how important Mickey was to him, but he kept quiet, leaving the other guests with vague assumptions about their relationship. For the moment, Ian was able to ignore the familiar annoyance of having to lie to everyone they meet. He wasn't even sure what the truth was anymore anyway.

It was best if he just didn't think about it.

As the two lay on the couch, they talked about everything but what they _really_ wanted to say. It was just like old times: despite all their underlying problems, they were both happy on the surface.

"That's seriously the _whole_ story of how you tried to steal a fuckin' helicopter?" Mickey asked incredulously with a huge smile on his face. "You're a fuckin' _idiot_, man."

"Shut up," Ian groaned, pushing Mickey's arm and laughing too. "Like you've never stolen something for a dumb reason before."

Mickey laughed harder, but he didn't deny it. He turned to rub his cigarette out in the ashtray on the coffee table next to him, smirking the whole time.

Ian watched him with lust-filled eyes and had to bite his lip to keep from kissing that stupid grin off of his face. They'd already kissed in public once that day already. Trying again would probably be pushing it, so Ian changed the subject instead.

"So admit it," he said in a teasing voice. "You had fun at this party."

"Are you _kidding_?" Mickey scoffed. "Like I would enjoy hanging out with _these_ fags."

Ian didn't believe him. "You _act_ like you're having fun," he pointed out.

Mickey just shrugged. "Yeah, well, that's cause everyone's fuckin' asleep now," he said, eyeing a couple snoring on the floor near them in disgust.

"It's not bad though, right?" Ian continued, determined to get an answer out of him. "Being surrounded by people who don't give a shit if you kiss me."

Mickey rolled his eyes and laughed derisively. "Yeah whatever," he said. "We could do that shit at home instead of some lame ass party."

Ian raised an eyebrow and rolled over to face Mickey. "Oh really?" he asked. "Which home: yours or mine? Cause either way there's a bunch of people there."

"Your place's probably safest," Mickey said, avoiding eye contact and chewing on his thumb nail absently.

Ian frowned, unsure of what he'd just heard. "Wait… you saying you wanna stay at my place?"

"Didn't say that, but yeah, if you want me to," Mickey responded simply. "I could sleep on the floor like I did last night."

"What about your wife? She just had a baby," Ian asked in amazement.

"All the more reason to fuckin' leave," Mickey spat, raising his eyebrows like his answer had been obvious.

Ian sighed bitterly. "That why you came to get me: sick of being stuck at home with your _wife_?"

"Nah, man," Mickey replied. "Heard you were in trouble so I came to save your ass. Good fuckin' thing I did, too."

Ian didn't reply. He just looked down at the blanket underneath them sadly.

Mickey saw the look on his face and immediately regretted his words. "Ey, c'mon," he sighed. "It's just… my fault you left." He said the words quietly like he was admitting a secret. "Missed you."

Ian finally looked up again, but he still didn't look happy.

"If you stay with me, then what am I supposed to tell my family?" he asked coldly. "They're bound to ask me about us."

"Tell 'em it's none of their fucking business," Mickey growled.

Ian sighed in defeat and lay back on the couch. The one thing that he hadn't missed about Mickey was that he always had to lie. He turned away from the other boy, and his eyes settled on a happy couple making out in the corner of the room.

Mickey followed his gaze and grimaced. He chewed on his lip, eyes flickering back to Ian.

After a moment of hesitation, he leaned over the younger boy and pressed their lips together hard. It was nothing like the passionate exchange of saliva that they'd shared earlier that day. Instead it was a small, silent promise: a wordless reassurance to Ian that what they had was real.

Ian wrapped his hand around Mickey's neck, holding him in place. It wasn't until he heard some of the others talking about them and felt their envious stares that he pulled away.

"I hate that everyone was checking you out today," Ian mumbled, shooting their voyeurs a moody glare.

"Fuck off," Mickey laughed in disbelief.

"They were!" Ian insisted.

"_You're_ the one they've all seen dancing without a shirt before," Mickey grumbled unhappily.

"Trust me. They were _definitely_ looking at you," Ian argued. "Fucking vultures. It's like they like it even more when they see a guy already _together_ with someone."

They both fell silent, realizing the weight of what Ian had just said.

Mickey's first reaction was to shy away from the word "together" and deny his feelings like always, but something stopped him. There was a new kind of fear inside of him now, and it grew stronger than the fear of his father day by day.

It was the fear of losing Ian again.

Mickey had never thought he would fall in love. He never pictured himself as someone's boyfriend. It had never been a luxury he could afford before; but ever since Ian came along, that changed. Being with him had become something that he _needed_ to breathe. He couldn't picture a life without him anymore.

And then he realized: he _wanted_ to be Ian's boyfriend, more than anything.

Ian misinterpreted Mickey's pensive silence and sighed once again. "Let's just go to sleep," he muttered tiredly. Mickey nodded, not knowing what to say.

When the two fell asleep together, it was not romantic. They didn't cuddle or give each other a good night kiss. Instead, they both turned away and drifted to sleep on opposite sides of the couch, feeling lonely and cold.

But during the night they inched closer. Mickey turned over so that his whole body was facing Ian, and he grabbed his arm, holding it tightly.

There was something that seemed to keep them apart when they were awake, but unconsciously they had always been drawn to each other.

They were still so far away. They needed to be so much closer.

But at least they were together.


End file.
